A Wonder Ere The Waking Dawn
by MorningBlack.Ring
Summary: "Arthur?" The voice went out of his mouth in an unbelieving tone. His eyes widen with surprise or fear, hard to tell which. John couldn't believe that, after all this years, Arthur was back. Standing in front of him. But not as John would like. Arthur was fading, glowing in an eerie presence.
1. Chapter 1

"Arthur?"

The voice went out of his mouth in an unbelieving tone. His eyes widen with surprise or fear, hard to tell which. John couldn't believe that, after all this years, Arthur was back. Standing in front of him. But not as John would like. Arthur was fading, glowing in an eerie presence. It sent shivers down John's spine. He lost the force to stand up and knelt in the ground, mouth open to the sight of the one he assumed dead. His heart almost jumping through his throat. A deep, echoing voice could be heard:

"Marston? Can you see me?"

Arthur seemed as surprised as John. The older were sitting on a rock near the camp John made somewhere in New Austin. John tried to answer, but he couldn't form words. Just stuttering sounds were leaving his mouth, as he shook his head incredulously. Arthur continued in a happy voice, standing up:

"No way... I've been tryin' for years!" He breathed deeply trying to control his… heartbeat? He didn't tried to understand it anymore, but he still could feel human emotions and physical sensations, even as a ghost. He gestured as he continued his sentence: "I've been with ya all this time, John. I saw everything you did. And I have to say…" Arthur pointed an accusatory finger. "You're a fool."

John found himself smiling. Laughing, even. Arthur's last word worked as the proof he needed to believe in what the hell were happening. It was really Arthur there. And he couldn't be happier.

"I'm not joking, Marston. What were you thinking when you went out to hunt Micah? I told you to be with your family, not to go for a goddamn revenge." Arthur put his hands on his hips, a disappointed expression on his face. John tried to justify himself as he stood up again.

"B-but it ended up alright. Micah is dead, Dutch is gone, everyone else is okay. I'm okay, Arthur."

John wore a pity-worthy expression. Purposely, maybe. Arthur showed a slight smile in the corner of his mouth, answering:

"I know… I know."

John's heart felt tight. He raised his voice, clenching his fists:

"Don't say that!" Then he relaxed and looked away. "It was the last thing you said to me."

Arthur's smile widened.

"Oh. You still remember it."

"How wouldn't I? You fuckin' died because of me." His eyes were sad. John sat up on the rock Arthur was before, closer to him. He buried his face on his hands, trying to suppress tears he knew were coming, and sighed deeply. He never told anyone, but what he felt for Arthur was something else, different from strong friendship. He tried to make those feelings go away through all his life, but he ended up doing exactly what Arthur told. He fled with his family, tried to live a normal life with them, mostly because Arthur told him rather than by his own will. Every day he thought about Arthur and what he meant to him. He tried his best to be strong and let it go, overcome this situation. It was just when he thought he overcome Arthur's death, revenging him, getting enough money to support his family for a long time and marrying Abigail - it was then he appeared.

Crushing his heart with happiness. And fear. It was Arthur, but he was a ghost. John didn't know how to feel about that detail. He wasn't deeply depressive at the loss to be imagining things. He was overcoming it. He could only believe it was Arthur, truly, right there. Standing at his side.

Arthur crouched to look John in the eyes, aware of the younger's emotions.

"Hey, hey.. It's okay. I'm glad you're okay. You did good with Abigail and Jack. I'm proud of you, actually." He said with a soothing voice, even if it was echoing and strange. John took his hands off his face and looked back at Arthur's now milky, but still bluish eyes. He replied, afraid, but sincere:

"No... That's not it, Arthur. You don't understand, that's not what I wanted." Arthur made a confused face, his head dropping to one side. Before he could speak something, John explained nervously between sighs, looking away again:

"I… I wanted t-to.. to be with… you. I mean, I love Abigail in a way, and of course I love Jack, but… That's not what I truly wanted." John snorted a laugh quickly before continuing. "I would be so much happier if we were four living together." He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. His elbows resting on his thighs, fingers interlaced while he played with his thumbs. It was the first time he confessed his feelings for men. Actually, John felt attracted to many women, but Arthur was the only person he truly loved and wanted the most. He grew up with the man, admiring, wanting to be like him. He couldn't help, no matter how much he tried to make these feelings go away, it won't fade. He never had the opportunity (nor the guts) to confess to Arthur when the man was alive, but now he didn't resist the urge to do it.

John suddenly felt panicked. Arthur barely showed himself and John was risking this moment, when he could have not talked about his feelings and could be sure Arthur will be with him for a long time. Instead, he confessed right away, risking rejection and Arthur could be gone forever, after burning hope on him. John swallowed dry to the realization.

But Arthur didn't reject him, nor played with him or anything. Their feelings were mutual, but John didn't know.

"Look at me…" Arthur asked under his breath. John hesitated a second, but did it.

Arthur tried his best to focus on keeping his presence. It was hard. This was still a strange feeling, like a new sense, something just like touch or hearing. He took more than five years to finally be able to appear in the material world, something that happened just a few minutes ago. He leaned forward, closer to John, who immediately understand his intentions. John opened his mouth a little as to show he wanted it. They both could feel each other's breath (not even thinking about the possibility of understand why a ghost could do that), almost touching. Savouring this very moment of expectation. Then Arthur finally leaned a bit more to seal the kiss, wanting it. Needing it.

Arthur were invading John's mouth.

As he was invading his head. And at the same time not invading anything.

He just passed through John as if he was nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

A sigh of understanding went off the noses from both men. Because John could see Arthur it doesn't necessarily meant he could touch him. Arthur leaned back to "get out" of John. An apologetic smile on his face. John slightly bit his lower lip, disappointed. But Arthur was still there, even if he couldn't touch him, and this was everything he needed.

"S'okay," John managed to say, aware that Arthur might be feeling the same, both about him and his otherworldly, odd situation. "I understand," he continued. Arthur answered:

"I reckon I must concentrate more'n that thing."

"Ain't we rushing things out?"

"Maybe," the ghost voice echoing more than usual, in a way that made John shiver. He noticed Arthur's body fading more too. John made an expression of mixed fear and confusion. Was Arthur going away? Back to… the "ghost world" or something? He reached a hand, even though he knew he couldn't touch him. Arthur's eyes widened as he noticed in the last moment John couldn't see him no more, but John couldn't notice them.

John was afraid. "_Stupid moron,"_ he thought. Face buried on his hands again. He thought it was his fault that Arthur disappeared, not wanting to disappoint the younger man.

Oh, if the kiss was real. Only if he could unite their lips together. He touched his lips with his index and middle finger, wondering what would it feel like. Cold? Soft? Rough? A tingling sensation passed through his body, filling him with arousal. He felt bad for it. Wanting a dead man. A ghost. He knew he could never touch Arthur in life, but this was different. Now John knew Arthur wanted it too, and he felt guilty, sorry for every time they spent together and both never had the guts to confess. He thought it would take a long time before Arthur appeared to him again, and went into his tent.

It was a warm night. In every meaning.

John closed the tent flaps, aware he was near the road and someone could pass by. He lied down on the sleeping bag and started to undress his lower parts. He sighed in realization of what he was doing, a feeling of guilt consuming him as he stroked his cock up and down, thinking about Arthur. Fantasizing about grabbing the man by the collar and shoving him down on a bed, or on the ground, it didn't matter at all. He wanted to feel the man's mouth, curling his tongue at the imagination of a deep kiss. He wanted to feel it wrapping his cock in a wet and obscene act, the mere fantasy sending a wave of tingling sensation through all his body.

He closed his eyes and moved his hand faster. Little moans leaving his body through his nostrils. He whispered a barely audible "_Arthur"_, not even noticing it. When he opened his eyes again, he couldn't believe - again - in what he was witnessing.

Arthur was there again. His ghostly legs passing through John's own, sharing the small space of the tent. Sitting with John on the end of the sleep bag. Wearing a blue, unbuttoned shirt only. Fingering himself. A wonderful view.

John gasped, alternating his sight on where Arthur's two fingers disappeared inside him and his pleased face. He had his eyes shutted, teeth clenched, unaware he was appearing to John again. Sighing through his nose in a standardized pace whilst touching his insides.

"Arthur," John said again with his husky voice, smirking. He felt the chills on his cheeks, knowing he was blushing. Arthur prompted himself back, leaning on his elbow and forearm instead of on his hand. His fingers moving faster and faster, hips instinctively moving up when the fingers hit that sweet spot inside him.

John fixed his eyes on Arthur's face. He was so lost in pleasure, moaning loud with that echoing voice, eyes still closed. The younger continued stroking his own length, faster, licking his lips and arching his back. He come to his climax a few seconds later than Arthur, with a weak high-pitched whimper, while the other let out a loud groan. He was amazed at the sight before him: Arthur, the grumpy outlaw and the man he loved, came from his ass, face in ecstasy, bright red on his face, glowing under the weak light of the lamp. Chest heaving, panting while the waves of pleasure passed through all his body, influencing John's own to do as so. He came on his hands, easier to clean. Arthur came on his belly. His seed glowing as much as Arthur's own ghostly body.

He finally opened his eyes, unexpectedly meeting John's fixed at him.

"Didn't know... you enjoyed it... on the rear," said John between heavy breathing. A grin take place on his face with a snort. He leaned on his elbows to sit up. Arthur was surprised.

"Wha- oh, shit," Arthur exclaimed when he realized he was being looked at. Admired, to be honest. An awkward silence took place, except by the nature sounds. Arthur covered his face in his arm and laid back. It was odd how his neck and head went through the tent flaps. "_Ghosty things,"_ John guessed. Like magic, Arthur was dressed up again. He arched his back and got sit up again, elbows supporting on his knees, his hands dropping between his legs. He looked upon John in the eyes, then looked away, shy. He said with a sigh:

"S-sorry… I saw ya doin' that and… after what you said t'me earlier… I-I thought-"

"It's okay, Arthur. We both wanted it, ain't we?" John interrupted the other man, trying to make things right this time. Of course this was even more "rushed out" than the half-kiss from before. John continued with a small smile, remembering the words he said, while cleaning his hands and tucking himself back on his trousers:

"I was afraid ya would disappear for a long time after I said that."

Arthur looked back at John and frowned, confused at first, but understood he was talking about rush the things between them. He raised his eyebrows to show it.

"Oh. I didn't intend to go away, just can't control this… uh…" He couldn't find the exact word for it, but made a rolling gesture with his hands. John opened his mouth and tried to help, but he didn't knew much words to start with. Arthur shook his head and continued, gesturing quotations with his fingers::

"...this 'can-be-seen' thingy properly. I'm tryin' for years, since Beaver's Hollow, and tonight was the first time ya could see me."

"That's alright. I didn't meant I did not want it to be rushed. Was concerned 'bout ya…"

Arthur smiled. He laughed once and looked away again, scratching the beard at his right cheek. He said, maybe too low:

"You lookin' good older like this."

John hummed in question, couldn't hear exactly what the ghost man said. Arthur cleared his throat and answered, eyes back to John's:

"Said yer now almost as older as me. When I was alive, though." His hand gesturing towards John.

John smiled. His heart still beating hard, loud to his ears. "You're right. Hard to believe it happened so many years ago. Still have dreams 'bout that time." He confessed. Arthur smirked, curious.

"What kind of dreams are ya having, Marston?" He asked in a tone that seemed a rhetorical question. John opened his mouth to answer, but he noticed the man fading more and more. An "_Arthur" _went out of his throat as an reflex act. The ghost tried to understand but it was too late.

Arthur faded away. Again. Leaving John sighing and sad. He wondered:

"Will I ever manage to touch ya again?"


End file.
